Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) (37 page)

Fuck, yes.

“Radimir,” I murmur. He pulls out of me with a sigh and rolls over to his back.

“You’re pregnant,
really
pregnant?” he asks as he turns his head to look at me. I haven’t moved from my stomach, my legs still spread, but now my head is turned to him.

“I am,” I admit. He nods.

“Our child is going to be beautiful and perfect,” he murmurs as he rolls to his side. His finger trails the new tattoo on my side.

Chernovolosyy Koroleva
.

We had our matching tattoos done the day after Radimir suggested it.

“If it is a boy, you will train him as
Bratva,
then? Take him from me?” I ask with a trembling voice. I must know.

“
Kotik
, what is this? Where did you get this idea from?” he asks, furrowing his brow with confusion.

“I heard what you said to Maksimilyan, today; that soon he would go with you and Maxim and learn the business,” I say.

“
Kotik
,” he sighs before gathering me in his arms and pulling me to his chest. “Never, ever, would I take our son from you. He will not know the
Bratva
as a man knows the
Bratva
until he is indeed
a man
. He will know the men I work with, he will learn respect, he will learn the ways of the
Bratva
, how to be strong and fair. He will know how to handle guns, but he will never know what he is not ready to know. I will not turn a boy into a man until it is time. I am sure he will always be your baby, as well—never too hard not to show love for his Ma. Same goes for Maksimilyan,” he says, running his fingers through my mussed up hair.

“You won’t train him to be a solider?” I ask nervously.

“I am not Ivan, my
kotik
,” he states simply. I let out a breath.

“I did not think you were,” I admit. He squeezes my body tighter to his.

“I know this, but you worried for your unborn son. This means you already love this baby, no?” he asks, shaking me a bit. I look up to him with a small smile.

“Yes, I do Rad, so much,” I confess. His lips brush mine.

“You make me so happy, Emiliya. Bringing my child into the world, standing beside me as my wife, giving me the family I have never had. I could not ask for a better lover and wife,” he shrugs with a smile tugging on his mouth.

“What did I do to deserve a man such as you?” I ask, running my fingers over his stubbled jaw.

“It is I who does not deserve you. I am not a good, law abiding man. You know this, and you accept this. I love you for this. I love you because you are sweet and soft. I love you because you are here for me when I have had a shit day; but I also love you because you are mine. You were always meant to be mine, and you will always be mine.”

Tears fall from my eyes and down my cheeks at my husband’s words. A man who comes home wearing another’s blood is looking at me like I am the most beautiful and gentle creature on this planet. A man who could have anyone he wanted, he is
that
handsome, is looking at me as though I am the most gorgeous woman on earth.

This man made me his wife out of duty, but loves me and confides in me because he trusts me.

He is beautiful.

I do not deserve him, and yet, here we are.

Building a life with each other.

Forever.

Eight Months Later

I
T IS TIME.

The first contraction started hours ago, but my water has just broken. Now – it is time.

I cannot get ahold of Radimir, so I call the next best person.

Anton
.

He’s been my personal guard since the beginning, and he never leaves my side if Radimir isn’t around.

“Emiliya,” he mumbles into the phone. I know he is probably just down stairs, but I can’t make it.

“I need your help,” I cry out, louder than I intended. A contraction hits me and it’s unbearable.

I hear his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs of the house, and then they stop. I look up and he’s paused, completely frozen and staring at me in horror.

“I can’t get ahold of Radimir. I need to go to the hospital,” I grind out through the pain.

Suddenly, he unfreezes and picks me up into his massive arms. Luckily, I changed and am no longer completely wet from my water breaking.

Anton doesn’t say a word as he puts me into the car; but as soon as he is behind the wheel, he drives like a bat out of hell, dialing Radimir’s phone.

“
I am busy
,” Radimir screams though the cars speakers.

“Emiliya is in labor. Come to the hospital,” Anton instructs, his tone deep but submissive just the same. Radimir is his boss, and he always shows him the utmost respect.

“
Now
?” he asks. I can’t handle it.

“Yes, Radimir, right fucking
NOW
,” I scream. I hear him gasp.

“Hang tight,
kotik
. I’m on my way,” he murmurs before Anton ends the call.

“The only person I know who can put the boss in his place,” Anton mutters. I look over to him as a contraction hits.

“He did this to me. He gets all the wrath and fury thrown his way,” I grind out. Anton throws his head back in laughter as we pull up to the hospital.

Without another word, he disappears through the emergency room doors and comes back with a wheelchair and a nurse. They help me into the chair and I am wheeled to labor and delivery.

The time has come.

The time for my baby to come into this world.

Time.

It is time.

I rush to my car, forgetting about the four cartel members tied up, and ignoring the fact that we need information on their bosses,
ASAP
. Ziven can handle them. He must. Next week is the beginning of war, and we are going to surprise those fucks from all angles. North to south, and east to west. It is going to be glorious.

But tonight, my focus is only on my wife.

My wife who is about to bring my child into the world.

I make it to the hospital in record time. Thirty minutes. It felt like an eternity, and I cursed Los Angeles traffic about a hundred times between the warehouse and the hospital, but I made it. I run to the maternity floor and find a couple of nurses chatting at the front desk.

“Emiliya Zaleskya,” I rattle off. They both look at me like I am insane.

“I’m here to see Emiliya Zaleskya,” I say again. One of them looks down at the computer, pressing a few buttons before she narrows her eyes at me.

“Who are you, exactly?”

“Her husband,” I say harshly. Fuck this bitch.

“There’s a man in with her, sorry,” she begins to say. I wrap my hand in her scrub.

“He’s her friend, but I am her husband,” I grind out, my nose almost rubbing against hers.

“Radimir.” Anton’s voice breaks through and I turn to him.

“This way. It’s time,” he says, his eyes urgent. I drop the bitch and I run, following after him.

The room he takes me into has a doctor and a nurse. Anton doesn’t follow me in, and wisely so. Emiliya’s legs are spread wide open, and the doctor’s face is inches away from her pussy. I growl, but then I hear my
kotik’s
voice.

“You made it,” she says. Her voice is laced with pain, and I run to her side.

“Okay, on this next contraction, I want you to bear down and push,” the doctor instructs.

I take Emiliya’s foot, like I was told to do in our Lamaze classes, while the nurse takes the other, winking and me and smiling.

“It hurts,” Emiliya mutters.

I then watch as she shudders and presses her chin to her chest, pushing as her pale face turns red, her hand squeezing the life out of mine.

“She needs dope,” I practically cry as she fractures my entire hand—or, at least, it feels like it.

“It’s too late. Wouldn’t do any good,” the nurse murmurs with a wince.

“
It’s never too late, give her something
,” I demand. She shakes her head.

“I see the head, Emiliya. You are doing great. Push again,” the doctor says. The nurse glances at me and tips her chin to my wife’s crotch.

“Watch your baby come into this world, Mr. Zalesky,” she instructs.

I don’t know why I listen to her, but I do.

It’s completely disgusting.

But then, as I watch the little baby slide from my wife’s body and into the waiting hands of the doctor, I understand the pure fucking beauty of the process.

“A boy!” the doctor calls out. Soon, the room is filled with the screams of my newborn son.

A son.

A boy.

A piece of me and a piece of my sweet Emiliya rolled into one bundle.

The doctor places my baby on my Emiliya’s chest, and I rush over to her side and press my lips to her temple as she cries.

We both stare at our son for a beat before the nurse takes the baby and I am instructed to cut the umbilical cord. The next few moments are a blur as the baby is weighed and tested. Then, as the rest of the world melts away, it is time for me to take my son to his mother to bond.

Emiliya is sitting up in the bed, her hair a bit mussed, but the rest of her looking oddly refreshed and fucking perfect. I sit down next to her on the bed and hold the baby out for her to hold. I don’t want to let him go, my beautiful
syn
—my
son
.

The nurse explains how Emiliya can begin to try and breast feed, and I watch in amazement as my son roots for her breast.
It is beautiful
. Once the nurse leaves, my eyes well with tears.

I touch his soft black hair and look from him to Emiliya. I cannot hold in my deep feelings and emotions. I never thought I would have this family. I never thought that I
wanted
it. I am nothing but a whore turned criminal boss in the
Bratva
. I do not deserve this happiness, but I am going to hold on with both hands as tightly as I can.

“His is perfect,” I murmur as tears fall from my eyes.

“Like his father,” Emiliya whispers as her own tears are shed.

“You have a name?”

“Radoslav, we’ll call him Rad,” she suggests. My chest grows tight.

“After me, in a way like Haleigh named Maksimilyan?”

“Similar, but I looked up the meaning of Radoslav. It means happy, just as Radimir means happy. The same meaning. Too perfect not to use, no?” she asks. My heart grows a little more.

“Radoslav Zalesky,” I murmur, looking down at him. “Rad.”

Fucking perfect.

My wife.

My son.

My life.

I am seduced, once again, by this woman.

Every day she seduces me. She makes me better. She makes me want so much more than I ever dreamed possible. She makes me happy. I can live up to my name’s meaning.
Happiness and Peace
. I will make Radoslav happy as well. Never will he fear life. Never will he know the pains I have suffered. Never will he suffer.

Not my son.

Not my happiness.

SUMMER of 2016

DANCING FOR THE BADMAN

Kirill is gone. He is disconnected from his crew. War is on the verge of breaking out.